I pull back in shock. Does he actually think I’m going to come back to him? That this time apart is some kind of cooling-off period, and I’ll eventually forgive him and pick up where we left off?
“What do you mean by ‘do something stupid’? Sleep with someone else? Would that beunforgivableto you?” I spit, exasperated. “Or perhaps you mean get a lawyer?”
Because I’ve done both!I finish in my head. He doesn’t speak, just continues to glare at me.
“I’m not coming back to you, Daniel,” I continue after I regain some sense of calm. “Not now, not ever. No matterhow you say it, and no matter how much you try to brainwash my mum. It’s over between us.”
Daniel looks at me with icy contempt. He isn’t used to hearing the word no, especially not from me. He leans in closer, and I instinctively sit back in my chair.
“Youwillcome back to me, Gianna, one way or another,” he says, his calm voice a deadly promise. Shivers erupt down my spine. “No one else would ever want you. You belong to me. You always will.”
Useless. Dumb. Nothing.
His gaze remains locked on mine. Cold, blue eyes burning their mark as the seconds slowly tick by.
“And if I don’t?” My voice is now barely a whisper. All my bravado from earlier has faded into non-existence.
“If you don’t,” he says, low and certain, “I will make sure you havenothing.”
Daniel’s wordshave barely settled between us when Mum bursts back in the room with a tray of tiramisu.
“Dessert is ready!” She beams, placing the dish down between Daniel and me. Daniel leans back in his chair, all the malice on his face from just mere seconds earlier replaced with the charming smile he usually reserves for the media, instantly winning Mum over. She places a hand on his shoulder and gives him a warm smile, before turning to me. I’m still processing Daniel’s closing statement, hands wringing in my lap.
“Cara mia, are you okay? You really shouldn’t be drinking so much- it’s not good for you,” she says, blaming my colourless face on my lingering hangover. Just as well, I guess. Too late to fess up to the truth of my situation now. Daniel smirks behind her back, as if he can read my mind.
When Tony, Lia and Leo come back in from the kitchen, Daniel stands and takes Mum’s hand in his own.
“Sorry, Elena, that looks delicious but I have to head off. Training starts in an hour.” He leans down and kisses her on the cheek. A trickle of relief filters through me as he nods goodbye to my brother and his family, but then he turns to me.
“See you, G,” he says, using my old nickname. “Think about what I said, okay?” The way he speaks to me -gently, with his eyebrows furrowed, hands in pockets and shoulders hunched -implies he confessed his undying love to me while we were alone, not threatened me to come back to himor else.Mum gobbles up his performance like a worm on a hook and leads him out to the front door. I sit quietly with my family, refusing to meet any of their questioning gazes.
“I’m fine,” I declare to the table in general while I stare down at my nails once again. The last thing I want is to have to make up some fake conversation that Daniel and I had while I’m still reeling from the one that actually happened.
“If he said anything to -” Tony starts angrily, but I interrupt him before he can finish.
“Please let’s not talk about it. I would like to salvage the rest of my day,” I say, knowing my day is well and truly fucking ruined regardless. I reach forward and slop a huge piece of tiramisu on my plate, signalling that the conversation is over.
Later,after I’ve helped mum clear up the mess and dodged her unsubtle inquiries into the state of my marriage, I go in search of Dad. It’s no surprise that I find him sitting outside in his rustic courtyard, watering his beloved veggie patch. Ihand him the plate of pasta I made up earlier and take a seat on the old wooden bench next to him, something I used to do a lot as a kid.
“Thank you, Darling.”
He wipes a dirt covered hand on his gardening overalls before he takes the plate from me, placing it down on his small worktable alongside an assortment of gardening tools. Then he continues watering his cucumbers, a pensive look on the weathered face I love so much. I close my eyes and let a rare ray of sunshine warm my face as Dad and I fall into a comfortable silence. I’ve spent many hours sitting on this bench next to Dad, either in silence as Dad tends to his garden alone or helping him while he gives me some roundabout life lesson based on a gardening analogy. If there’s one thing I’ve learned over the years, it’s that the solution to any problem you’re facing can be found in a veggie patch.
A deep feeling of unease has been bubbling around in my gut since Daniel left. Even sitting here in one of my favourite spots with Dad is failing to bring me comfort. In my head, for the last six months, Daniel and I have been on the direct path to divorce. Sure, he posted my wedding and engagement rings back to me after I left him with a discerning note (These will always belong on your finger as you will always belong to me) but I haven’t heard from him since, and I thought we were on the same page that this marriage was over. Was I stupid to think Daniel would let it go this easily? If he’s so hell bent on reconciliation, why haven’t I heard from him in so long? These thoughts swirl around in my head, but I keep coming back to Daniel’s threat.
I will make sure you have nothing.
I don’t know why his words were such a shock to me. I knew he would be ruthless in our divorce, but knowing that separating isn’t what Daniel wants adds another messy layerto all this. Daniel always gets what he wants, and when he doesn’t, he makes everyone around him pay.
“Are you okay, Darling?” Dad asks gently, pulling me from my thoughts. He’s stopped watering and is now staring at me, a frown playing between his thick brows.
“Yeah, I’m fine, Dad. I’m so sorry about what happened in there,” I tuck my hands under my thighs, feeling guilty over Dad missing lunch. He sets his watering can down on the concrete by his feet and turns his big body to face me. Dad looks like your typical old Italian man with his strong jaw, dark features and round belly; but when I look at him, I see his kind eyes that are always full of love, his rough hands that feel scratchy on my cheeks when he wipes away my tears, and his wide shoulders that take up the whole span of my arms when I hug him. He never interferes with my life or tries to tell me what to do the way Mum does. He’s just a constant safety net that’s always there, ready to catch me if I fall, and for that I’ll always be grateful.
“Don’t be sorry, Gia,” he says, his frown deepening. “That was not your fault. I shouldn’t have acted the way I did.” He sits, placing his hands in his lap and letting out a sigh. “I just couldn’t bear to sit down and eat with that man after he hurt you. It goes against every one of my instincts as a father.”
I rest my head on Dad’s shoulder and breathe in his familiar scent, a mix of soap and fresh dirt.
“I had no idea he was coming,” I say quietly. “I hadn’t heard from him in months.”
